Sirius Black & How His Muggle Hoodie
by Amanda9
Summary: Became Uncomfortable. James may have his Invisibility cloak, but Sirius has a hooded Sweatshirt! Bad humour ensues. birthday fic for a friend


**Title:** **_Sirius Black and How His Muggle Hoodie Became Uncomfortable  
_****By:** Amanda  
**Feedback:** sweety167yahoo.ca  
**Rating:** PG  
**Disclaimer:** I'm just playing with JK Rowling's toys. I promise to put them back when I'm done, whenever that is.  
**Timing:** MWPP era  
**Pairing:** Sirius, his ego and one Muggle sweatshirt.  
**Summary: **James may have his Invisibility cloak, but Sirius has a hooded Sweatshirt! Bad humour ensues.  
**Completed: **December 5, 2005  
**Notes**: This little 'comedic gem' is for surfergirl17 to celebrate her 21st birthday! cheers I hope you like it, and I certainly hope you have a fabulous birthday! HAPPY BIRTHDAY DEAR!

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With a cocky stride to his step Sirius was sure he had outwitted the whole Hogwarts faculty. And after all, why couldn't he. Him being an ever clever Black and reigning Marauder. He'd slipped out of the castle through one of the Marauders' tunnels and with the trusted hood on his ever so comfortable Muggle sweatshirt (though why they called them _Sweat Shirts_ was beyond him. The shirt did not sweat…) drawn down over his face, he was safe from all the prying eyes of the Professors. He could sneak by all of them. Undetected. Even Dumbledore. After all, the man was getting on in his years now. And a man of his age couldn't possibly be sharper than a fifteen-year-old prankster.

There was no denying it, Sirius was a genius. A Genius!

He was jostled from his ego trip when someone bumped into his shoulder. He was hidden too well behind the fleece fabric of his hood that he couldn't see where he was going.

"Excuse me sir," an unmistakable voice apologised, "I don't think I saw you there. Popped out of nowhere you did."

Sirius bit his lip and took a careful peek out from under his hood. Yupe. He was right. Dumbledore. He had only been outside the castle and in Hogsmeade for a few seconds and he had already managed to bump into the one professor he was trying to avoid the most.

Not trusting his voice to betray his identity, the boy shrugged. Shaking off the whole matter at hand.

"Oh no," Dumbledore reached to keep the other figure with him, "It's entirely my fault. Alas, my eyes aren't as sharp as they used to be. And the glare from the sun, off this building must have blinded me for a moment. Truly, a man of my age can't keep an eye out for everything, all the time…" He began on a ramble.

All Sirius could do was answer in a half hearted shoulder shrug.

Dumbledore continued, as if to himself, "I suppose things start to slip when you get to be my age. Your bones creek and your joints lock. You're not as sharp as you once were…"

Mustering all his self-control, Sirius fought the wince that he surely should have done. Had he not thought those exact things about the aged man in front of him?

"…And you certainly aren't as flexible as when you were younger. Not as much energy either. Can't move as fast, not the same stamina…Like _Minerva _said to me the other night –"

Sirius made a strange gurgled choke. A sound or great distress over the very thought…McGonagall…Dumbledore…night…stamina. Different pictures swirled in his head. Different dirty, disturbing pictures. He swayed, surely he was going to pass out!

The old man's eyes twinkled and he nodded, "Quite Right, I'd better let you be off than to do those things that the young go and do." But before he turned the corner into The Three Broomsticks he winked, "And I expect to see you back in the castle before the rest of the staff catch you, Mr. Black."

Sirius tore the hood back from his head and stared at the Headmaster in complete, open-mouth shock. How had he known? How could he possibly have known that it was Sirius hidden under that grey cotton hood?

"Now run along, and give Misters Potter, Lupin and Pettigrew my best," at that, Dumbledore nodded and ducked into the Inn.

And Sirius realised he should never underestimate Dumbledore. He was one crafty, old bugger.

And he could never wear his trusted hooded sweatshirt again without picturing Dumbledore and McGonagall together… _shudder_

**End. **


End file.
